


No Friends on the Other Side

by Gal_of_Action



Category: Bleach, Danny Phantom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Humor, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6063052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gal_of_Action/pseuds/Gal_of_Action
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two very different cities find themselves on the 'Other Side'. Suffice to say, inhabitants of any afterlife aren't exactly welcoming to unknown intruders, involuntary or otherwise. It seems then, sadly, that are no friends for these poor souls on the Other Side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**EDIT 1/25/17**

 

**Chapter One:** **  
** **Cross Over**

 

**_Don't you disrespect me little man!_ **

**_Don't you derogate or deride!_ **

**_You're in my world now,_ **

**_Not your world…_ ** ****_  
_ ****_  
_ **Too bad there are no friends on the Other Side.** ****  
  
  


The Seireitei is in chaos.

 

Chaotic, yet not the usual kind known to this rather hectic afterlife. There is no foolish but brave ryoku invasions. No traitors, revealing their existence with soft, self-satisfied smiles and bloody bodies of political leaders piled nearby. There are no mutant creatures breaking forth from the Institute of Research and Development to wreck havoc, nor some bitter, near forgotten group here to take painstaking revenge.

 

In fact, not one fight has yet to break out, although many believe it is only a matter of time. An entire city cannot just appear one day in a flash of light next to the capital of the Soul Society, the Seireitei, without some friction after all… So a confrontation, likely a violent one, is inevitable-- after of course the semi-transparent, strange, neon green barrier that has appeared around this distinctly  _ modern  _ and  _ human _ city is dealt with. It burst into existence around the place soon after the initial, shocking encounter, locking out the emergency search party of soul reapers sent to investigate. The combined efforts of the Institute of Research and Development as well as the Kido corp are working on bringing down the barrier with, surprisingly enough, very little success.

 

The recently reformed political body of the Seireitei and Soul Society as a whole, known as the Central 46, are not sure what to make of this… Not that they would tell anyone outside of their little group on pain of second death. They have an image to keep, for the peace of mind of the people naturally. Ordering the scientists and kido specialists to look into it, they themselves begin to pour over past records of similar events, a certain Japanese town the most recent of these. The Central 46, comprised of the wisest elders of the Soul Society and many members centuries old, are not about to merely shrug the burden of this mystery onto the shoulders of others. Unlike their predecessors whom were blinded by arrogance and payed the price, they are determined to take a somewhat more active role in affairs deemed _dire_ ….  
  
“This shouldn’t be possible…. “ A gruff, elderly looking spirit grumbles as he pours over a stack of reports concerning the unique kido-esque barrier holding the human city captive.  
  
“Yes, as you’ve said for the twentieth time or so,” returns a stiff-necked councillor flipping through a delicate, ancient tomb.  
  
“We are out of tea,” announces a testy, middle aged appearing woman from the bottom, far right row.  
  
“I’ll send for more,” a man graciously volunteers, secretly eager to get away from his frustrating colleagues and catch a glance of the mysterious green kido-esque dome, along with the human city beneath.

 

For those citizens who can only wait this newest trial out… Some stare wearily from rooftops and over Seireitei walls at the bizarre town so nearby before heading down to basements. The vast majority of the populace have seen nothing like its towering metallic structures beyond, since only certain soul reapers are permitted to visit the World of the Living where such places exist. The noncombatants cannot gawk for long however. Martial law has been reinstated in the Seireitei, a curfew set. Soul Reapers run about with an organized franticness through the now barren streets. The citizens know the drill. They would hunker down in their rather ill-prepared homes, staying out the way of the big guns (the lieutenants and captains especially) and pray that their military would take care of the problem as per usual… Although hopefully, this time, with far less property damage. The number of instances in which people, nobles and average citizens alike, have been left homeless because of the Soul Reapers’ bigger-than-life battles is far too numerous to count in recent years…

 

As for the members of the military, they do not share the frustrated, embarrassed countenance of the politicians nor weary resignation of the general populace. Surely they feel anxiety, but fierce determination overshadows it in nearly all of them. One lieutenant, Abarai Renji, is without a doubt among this group. He scowls darkly in front of the poisonous looking barrier erect a few yards away from where he stands, as if trying to drill a pair of holes into it with his glare alone. The man is an intimidating sight, garbed in black, tattoos covering much of his body, eyes narrowed and sword at his side… 

 

It would be even more intimidating if his crimson red hair isn’t shaped into looking like the top of a pineapple, but that aside his appearance  _ definitely _ screams that of an experience warrior that  _ should not _ be messed with, especially not now. He is not happy right now.  The lieutenant’s division have been given the duty of keeping watch over a team of scientists, and while Renji understands the importance of this task, he can’t help but desperately wish for a more… active role. All of this standing around just feels to him like begging for something worse to happen. Plus, the erratic, gleeful cackling from Captain Kurotsuchi (a being that resembles more  _ mad clown _ and less  _ respected scientist  _ in Renji’s humble opinion) is just plain disturbing to the redhead. 

 

Renji’s soul pager beeps and he quickly answers, thankful for the distraction. “Any change?” Is the gruff question by Lieutenant Hisagi, Renji’s longtime friend and comrade.  
  
“Nothing,” The redhead soul reaper responds glumly. “Unless you count finally determining without a trace of a doubt that it’s not kido, and not even made of reishi.”  
  
“….” There is a pause of stunned silence. “I agree it’s not kido, but for it not to be spiritual at all...”  
  
“I don’t get it either, Hisagi. Apparently the scientists have no idea what this stuff is made out of, and for some reason it just makes that whacko Kurotsuchi even happier the longer this remains true… What about you?” He inquires, although he already knows the answer from his friend’s earlier reaction.  
  
“The Kido corp has made no progress. Binding and destructive kido seems to have little to no effect on the energy structure, no matter the level.” His friend replies, his clipped, professional tone in place once more. “I think they’re considering more ritualistic or perhaps even forbidden kido. That aside, I have no clue what’s going through their minds…”  
  
“...Man, this is just _bizarre,_ ” Renji complains, abruptly dropping his own professional persona. He needs someone to vent to-- they both do. “I mean, _technically_ , I know it is possible to bring a city from the world of the living here. It was done with Karakura at the end of the Winter War to protect it, but the preparation and power that went into that was _insane_. Without the help of the Kido corp and Captain Commander, this really _shouldn’t be possible_ …”  
  
“And yet it is,” is the steady, assured response. Hisagi has found his resolve. “Like you said, we don’t understand it and definitely don’t like it, but there’s no use stressing over the _how_. That’s not our job. Our job is to watch over the scientists and kido specialists while keeping everyone calm and under control.”  
  
The other soul reaper lets out a breath, or more of a hiss of discontent. “You’re right,” he admits though reluctantly. “From the reports, I gather that the people in the city were just as shocked as we were when it happened. Most went screaming and fleeing deeper into their town... We need to be ready to deal with them, especially since I wouldn’t put it past a few to attack us once the barrier is down and panic takes hold…” Some think that the strange barrier is holding the hapless humans captive, and the soul reapers may even be welcomed as saviors once all is said and done. Abarai Renji is decidedly _not_ a part of this party. Whoever thinks that is beyond naive. When is it ever that simple?   
  
“Do you think they’ll be a serious threat?” Hisagi’s voice sounds curiously from the soul pager. “They’re still only human, after all,” he points out matter-of-factly, failing to see how humans could pose much of a threat in the end, shield or no shield. He obviously does not want a fight, but this is more out of concern for the hapless humans inside getting themselves hurt instead of any real fear for their own well-being.  
  
Renji snorts, his young human friends coming to mind. “Yeah, and so is Ichigo… along with Sado, Inoue-san and technically that Quincy Ishida. Not all humans are as weak, ignorant and defenseless as we like to... think they… are…” His voice trails off and his expression morphs to one of shock.  
  
“Point taken… Renji? Are you alright…?” He inquires at the odd tone the other’s voice has taken on. “Renji! Lieutenant Abarai!” Hisagi snaps, blatantly worried for his friend’s unusual behavior.

 

The lieutenant of the Sixth Division chuckles dryly, a laugh without any humor. “Well, _damn…_ Is it too soon to say I told you so?” His friend is only further confused and concerned.  
  
“What’s going on over there?”  
  
“I really don’t think you’re going to believe this until you see it…” He informs wryly, staring past the somewhat translucent green shield to what lies beyond. It is like some type of scene taken straight out of one of those ‘B-rated science fiction movies’ he watched while in the World of the Living… He quickly fills his friend in on the situation and speaks up before the other lieutenant has a chance to respond in disbelief. “Hisagi, I’m going to have to let you go. I need to report this to my captain.” _Nothing really can ever be simple nowadays, can it?_ The soul reaper questions himself scathingly as he prepares to make an unpleasant (to say the least) report to his stern division captain.

 

A few minutes later Renji is respectfully bowed before his distinctly noble and _unamused_ captain. “Lieutenant Abarai, elaborate to the best of your ability what you saw one last time.”  
  
“Yes, sir… The humans have erected defenses behind the barrier.”  
  
“And these defenses…”  
  
“They appear to be involve the, erm,” _think of a fancy term, think of a fancy term--_ “- _robotic armaments_ known to humans as… ‘mechas’.”  
  
While Renji is silently congratulating himself for the quick save, Byakuya, Sixth Division Captain of the Court Guard Squads and current Kuchiki noble Clan Head, is forced to realize that he really has no idea what his subordinate is going on about. With all the cold dignity and pride he can muster (which, fortunately for him, is a great deal), Byakuya stiffly asks a single question. “... what are ‘mechas’?” 

 

And Renji tells him, happy to finally know something his captain does not, even if that information comes from some Japanese anime he may or may not have secretly borrowed when on an excursion to the World of the Living …  _ What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Or me…  _ He silently prays.   
  


* * *

  
  
  


Amity Park is in chaos.  
  
Fortunately for them however (or unfortunately, depending on how one looks at it), it's the type of chaos that they are well acquainted with. They have been transported to another dimension… Again. This time though, instead of the endless, swirling, acidic green vortex so well-known to them as the Ghost Zone, they’ve appeared in a place similar to the Japanese feudal era… Are they somehow, sometime in the past? Considering what even the general populace went through on a daily basis, it would not be that big of a stretch. But no, the renowned city’s scientists and ghost hunters have assured them that they were in some other form of afterlife. They claim that the surrounding area is made purely of a substance not found on Earth or in the Ghost Zone, although what it exactly _is_ they have yet to discover. They haven’t had the chance, being forced to raise the city-wide ghost shield when menacing ghosts with samurai swords appeared at their doorstep. Thankfully though, whatever this new breed of ghosts are made out of, it is close enough to an ordinary ghost for the Fenton Works shield to prove more than useful.

 

After years of constant ghost attacks while the rest of the country (and world) continued to bury themselves in denial to the existence of ghosts, the city of Amity Park has long since taken upon themselves to be more than self sufficient. The combined efforts of Fenton Works and Axion Labs have once again created a relatively safe environment in which the populace may flourish. Fenton Works ectoplasmic based weaponry and Axion Labs ghost-targeting traps are implanted in every building, restaurant, street corner and more. A specially designed Artificial Intelligence, courtesy of Axion Labs, oversees it all with a precision and skill unmatched. Everyone has been issued a Fenton Specter Deflector, a belt specially designed to repel ghosts in a person’s immediate vicinity. This piece of equipment is optional. However, the Fenton Wrist Ray is not. Every person thirteen years or older are mandated to wear the low grade, but nonetheless formidable, ecto-based weapon.

 

From all of this it is evident the city has quickly become, in practically every way, decades more advanced in comparison to the rest of the world. If the world had not shunned them in fear of being forced to realize the existence of other worldly entities, there is no doubt they representatives from every place imaginable would be banging on their door, demanding them to share their amazing findings.  
  
If only.

 

The residents of Amity Park, while still very welcoming to migrants and immigrants with the bravery to join them, has long since abandoned interest in what happens beyond their city limits. Their country and world was more than eager to shun them, so why shouldn’t they return the favor? As a consequence, the town has become a very tight-knit and supportive community. Besides the occasional vacations the residents take, the only people who really cares to interact with the ‘outside world’ is, of course, the Fenton couple and Mayor Masters, owners of Fenton Works and Axion Labs respectively.  
  
One of those mentioned souls brave enough to move and make a new home in Amity Park now stands directly behind a row of the city’s militia in towering ecto-skeleton suits, much to the relief of one Mr. Lance Thunder. There is no doubt in his mind that if Ms. Harriet Chin had not arrived some months back and immediately applied for the position of Ghost reporter, it would be the city’s poor weatherman who would be stuck with the danger-wrecked, yet necessary, job. The arrangement has since worked out quite well. Mr. Thunder burst into tears of joy once told he would never again have to report on the constant ghostly phenomena that occurred in their city. Ms. Chin was ecstatic to be given in the job and so heartily appreciated by everyone for her efforts. She had been so sick of all the heated criticism and slander she received following her attempt to do a story for the Milwaukee Journal. The story had been on the very first public sighting Vlad Plasmius when he was still only known as the Wisconsin Ghost, but no one cared to hear it. No one wants to believe it. At least, no one outside of Amity Park.

 

Things have changed though. Things are different for her, so very different, and she loves every moment of it.  _ “Now reporting on the outskirts of town and just behind the combined forces of our city police and militia, we take you to Harriet Chin, Amity’s one and only Ghost Reporter.” _

 

Harriet beams as she stares into lens of camera pointed at her. The Asian American takes a brief moment to collect herself before speaking up with an ease and confidence envied by so many. “Thanks Barbara. As just mentioned, I currently stand behind our city’s defenses. Since it has been confirmed that we are in an entirely unknown dimension by resident scientists Jack and Madeline Fenton, please rest assured knowing that absolutely nothing has been held back in defense of our fair city. Every ghost hunter is out on the prowl and every member of the militia and police has been outfitted with the appropriate gear, the recently perfected ecto-skeletons among said gear.” 

 

Teal eyes light up at mention of the ecto-skeletons and the cameraman zooms in on a few at gesture from the reporter. They ranged from about eight to ten feet tall with the same general design. Hefty, durable and metallic, the only part that is different is the large transparent dome at the top that allows the men and women whom control the machines to see out of it. The reporter’s tone takes on an excited, practically giddy, edge as she reminds the people of the capabilities of such a weapon. All in all, she is reminiscent to a little kid at show and tell.  
  
“Until recently, the average human has been incapable of using for any considerable  amount of time this magnificent piece of technology, which allows the user to fight with a power hundred times that of their normal abilities. Thanks though to the combined efforts of Axion Labs and Fenton Works, it can now be put to good use without the wearer needing to fear the utter depletion of their life force… a fate worse than death. But bygones! With these honeys at our disposal, the Mayor has assured that we are more than capable of taking on any threat this dimension might throw at us. Just the same, he would once again like us to remind everyone to make their way to their assigned bunkers in a calm and orderly fashion. Never hurts to be too careful after all, and with all the drills we have undergone, we might as well put that practice to use!” 

 

Harriet cheerfully informs her audience. By this time the cameraman has refocused the limelight on the beautiful lady who continues to smile warmly, black hair in a high bun and bright teal eyes alight with an inner fire that puts many of the viewers at ease-- the opposite reaction to what Mr. Thunder’s nervous reporting used to entice. “For those who have for some reason forgotten the locations of the bunkers, a list will appear momentarily.” Sure enough, a list appears and flitters slowly across the screen of all those viewing. The reporter seems about to say more when a four wheeler and motorcycle driven by a well known ghost hunting duo flashes in and out of view. They whip up a fierce wind, nonsensical hollers of ‘ _to the EXTREME’_ being heard as they pass between the reporter and maned ecto-skeletons.  
  
Instantly Harriet realizes who they are and darts after them, frantically attempting to wave them down. “WAIT PLEASE! DO YOU HAVE A MOMENT TO ADDRESS THE PEOPLE OF AMITY PARK?!” she screams after them without restraint.  
  
“Totally, man!” The freckled guy on the motorcycle yells back, swiftly turning around and stopping next to the breathless reporter. The blonde haired woman on the four wheeler is close behind. The woman grimaces and narrows her eyes at her partner behind green, sleek-looking goggles.  
  
“Like, she’s a _girl_ ,” the woman points out to her partner with her usual disdain and irritation as she dismounts her vehicle.  
  
“Riiiiight,” he responds with his usual carefree attitude, also standing from his motorcycle. The pair wear black and green body suits that cover their entire body. While not nearly as technologically advanced as the renowned Red Huntress’ suit, it is still blatantly sophisticated and durable, covering them from their neckline down. They both wear black helmets and green goggles in addition to this, while their chosen vehicles also sports the same color scheme.  
  
By this point Harriet Chin has recovered her breath. Straightening her mused bangs, she gives the pair a pleasant smile. “Although already well-known by the populace, out of courtesy could you still introduce yourself to our viewers?”  
  
This time it is the woman who answers. “No prob. I’m Brenner and my partner here is Sullivan. You know us as the Extreme Ghostbreakers.”  Sullivan gives two ‘rock on’ signs with his hands and grins cheekily at the camera. To most it's ridiculous how they act, but their skills are no laughing matter… At least, not since the Red Huntress personally trained them a couple years back, as she has a tendency to do with all wannabe hunters that take up residence in Amity Park. Wisely, no one has turned down her offer (demand) to train; the mysterious woman is widely recognized as the most skilled, capable and powerful ghost hunter in America, if not the world.

 

“Thank you. Now then, Extreme Ghostbreakers, it is rumored that you were at first contact with this unknown breed of ghosts. Is there any truth to these rumors?”

 

Sullivan nods admently. “It’s totally true, dudes,” he notifies the audience with an excess of extravagant hand gestures. “We were making the usual rounds uptown when everything went down. You guys know what happened first. Sunlight got brighter and brighter ‘til nobody could see a thing, a roaring sound in our ears, then  _ surprise-surprise _ we’re in Sumari Land, yo!”

 

Brenner takes up the next part of the story. “We drove around some after that, tryin’ to keep you peeps calm while finding out what hell just went on. We made it up to the where the highway is cut off… Ya know, at the sign that says _Amity Park ~A Nice Place to Live~..._ ” At confirmation from Harriet, Brenner continues. “Well, we stopped there, taking in the weird and distinctly different scenery up ahead when out of nowhere came this group of asian ghosts. Not like normal ghosts either. No green or blue skin. No freaky glowing eyes. They would look pretty normal honestly if they weren’t dressed as samurai…”  
  
“And floatin’!” Sullivan adds helpfully.  
  
“And floating,” Brenner agrees.  
  
“So what happened next?” Harriet inquires intently before pointing the microphone in hand back at the pair. _This is golden! Finally, a clear-ish account of what happened!_

 

“Nothing extreme.” Sullivan shrugged. “They yelled at us some in Angry Japanese. The few people that followed us in cars or bikes or whatever, even though we told ‘em not, finally decided to get back to town at this point. Then the ghost shield came up and that’s that.” Harriet attempts to garner more information from the pair, but they don’t seem eager to give more information beyond what was already said. She could tell that they are swiftly becoming bored with her and were about to leave. So could her boss. He suggests something new to keep the pair’s attention.  
  
“Would you be willing to answer some of the viewers’ questions?”  
  
“Shoot.”  
  
“.... Mrs. Pamela Manson asks: what type of powers we can expect from these ghosts?”  
  
Brenner shrugs. “Dunno, Mrs. M. No one knows much about them yet… Just that they’re a group of samurai ghosts with swords, can fly and use some pretty gnarly forms of ghost rays.”  
  
“Can you elaborate?”  
  
“Not really. Some of the rays are fire based. Some electricity based. Hard to tell through the shield….” Sullivan mumbles, for once rather quiet and in deep thought.  
  
Quickly realizing her partner’s mistake, the other member of the ghost hunting duo pips up. “But we’ve seen nothing _too_ extreme. It’s not like Amity’s been city-napped by _Pariah Dark_ again.”  
  
“Or everyone turned into plant-zombies by Undergrowth,” the freckled ghostbreaker adds.  
  
“Or made into a Dark Age peasants by Aragon.”  
  
“Or-”  
  
“Yes, thank you. We have another caller…” Harriet interrupts in the politest way possible. The last thing the citizens of Amity need is a reminder of some of their most traumatic experiences after all. “Next question is from Mr. Damon Gray. He would like to know…” The reporter pauses, her usual exuberant nature slowly seeping out of her. “Where is Danny Phantom?” Her voice is a near whisper, but because of the microphone everyone listening can hear it loud and clear.  
  
The pair share a glance, then look back up. “We dunno,” they chorus.  


* * *

 

 

Phantom’s Keep is in chaos.  
  
It is not everyday that the newly anointed Ghost King has his favorite human territory torn from it’s rightful place in the real world and forcefully taken to a place unknown. It doesn’t help that the young king’s ghostly obsession is to _protect_ , and among the top of the list of what he protects is his precious hometown of Amity Park… along with his family, best friends and lady-in-courting, all of whom were there when it disappeared from the face of the planet… As the King’s techno geek best friend would so elegantly put it, _‘Dude, Murphy hates you’_.

 

For the general ghostly populace of the Keep (more like a towering palace surrounded by the beginnings of a great city)… Many are upset at this turn of events. Some because they honestly care about the humans of Amity Park. Others because they figure that if their King is concerned, they should be as well. Even more are upset due to the fact that the quirky city is their favorite haunt, so much so it has practically become their second home for a few (looking at you, Box Ghost)... And so, with intensities of reactions varied, naturally some are taking the news harder than others.  
  
“Noooooo!” Wails a thin, tall, green skinned and white haired ghost as he flies about in panic. “How will I, Technus 2.0, Master of all Technology, rule that pathetic human world now that the convenient stable portals connecting our two dimensions are gone?!” Each and every ghost has an obsession that keeps them from ‘fading’ or ‘passing on’ as some like to call it. For the ghosts whose obsessions rely on access to the real world, the current situation is pure torture.  
  
A soft snort comes from below the flying spectre. “Yeah right, like _my_ _dad_ would ever let that happen. Looks like someone needs to reboot their obsession,” taunts the young girl who made the earlier sound of derision. She goes on to suggest with false helpfulness, “Why don’t you try computer solitaire? It’s seriously addicting and fortunately for you, doesn’t need any friends for a second player.” Looking around twelve years old, the girl is a near splitting image of her _dad_ with snow white and glowing green eyes. She wears her form fitting, black and white hazmat suit (also so very similar to her _big bro’s_ ). She is relieved beyond belief to be back in it and rid of that stuffy gown Princess Dorathea had forced the younger female into for her coronation.  
  
“TECHNUS 2.0 WILL NOT TAKE ADVICE FROM A MERE- did you say _Dad_?” the previously raving ghost suddenly questions curiously, for once putting his monologuing on hold. “Is not the King, what, eighteen years of age? How can he be your father, you insolent child? And have not you said before that he is your cousin?”  
  
“In order…. Yes, yep, it’s true, and yeah, I did!” She beams up at the stunned ghost, fluttering her eyes innocently.

 

From their post several feet away, one ghostly guardsman whispers to another. “I thought she was the King’s daughter…?” His companion just shrugs his shoulders in helpless befuddlement. Things are changing so fast in the Ghost Zone as of late, a rare thing for the usually stagnant dimension of the dead. A week back the pair the guardsmen were working for the jail warden Walker, and now here they are, defending the previously long abandoned King’s Keep with an assortment of warriors from all over the Zone. To them, it is all just one big confusing mess.

 

The self-proclaimed Master of Technology and future supreme ruler of the human world is sputtering at being told off by a four foot five inches bundle of snark and sarcasm. “No matter!” The older ghost finally recovers, pointing a finger in the girl’s direction as he once again begins his bad habit of monologuing. “I, Technus 2.0, Master of all Technology, will not be fooled by your pathetic attempts to distract me from my destined goal of-” his monologue grinds to a halt. The pair of guards have appeared by the girl’s side and are currently staring down Technus, brandishing spears which crackle to life with crackling electricity. Technus’ voice hitches. “... finding my domain elsewhere…” he finishes lamely before fleeing, forgetting in his haste to shout his name and title.  
  
Danielle “Dani” Phantom smirks as she watches the ghost hightail it away from the palace grounds. In hindsight, it was probably not the best idea to threaten in any fashion the ‘princess’ at Phantom’s Keep, something _Technus 2.0, Master of all Technology,_ has no doubt just realized with startling clarity. “I could get used to this,” she hums, watching the retreating figure with satisfaction. It doesn’t last long however, not when there is no one to really share it with. It is this loneliness in the first place that brought her back to her _cousin_. Traveling the real world was cool, she learned so much, but it wasn’t a good way to live. She is half-human after all and needs a sense of stability. Her travels, as fun as they were at so many points, didn’t have this in the end. There were times at which she was hungry, exhausted, cold and generally miserable… Not the best condition for an entity who, chronologically speaking, is still too young to even be in kindergarten.  
  
So she returned to her roots so to speak… And when finally, she isn’t alone anymore? Finally, when she had friends and even family within easy reach? Someone or something tore it all from her grasp. Amity Park is MIA, along with all those who were there at the time of its disappearance. The young girl slowly floats back to the grassy ground as she clutches her hands close to her chest. _“Valerie…. Please be ok…”_ she pleads quietly, thinking of the strong, vibrant woman she looks up to while wishing desperately that she had something of the Valerie to hold onto.  
  
Then there is her _cuz_ , who ever since Amity’s disappearance has been working tirelessly to find those missing. She’s hardly has had a chance to see him since then, much less talk to him. Dani can’t even spend time with her newest friend, Princess Dorathea or ‘Dora’, since she is one of _dad’s_ closest allies and a trusted adviser… Dani frowns, scuffing up the perfectly trimmed ground with one foot. “This is stupid…” she mutters. “I should be helping fix this, not locked away like some pretty porcelain doll. That’s right...” She hops into the air again, alighting one hand in a green ectoplasm and holding it heroically up in the air. “I’m a Phantom! Protector of the weak, Defender of those who cannot defend themselves, Defeater of Evil Fruitloops, Kicker of butts, Taker of names, ectera ectera… And so, as a Phantom, I can’t just-”  
  
“My dear, if you continue along that tangent you’ll begin to sound like a Technus 3.0,” comes a voice sounding of dry amusement.  
  
Dani whirls around, green eyes wide. That posh, civilised speech and tone of dry amusement had instantly reminded her of someone she’d rather not remember. Instead of finding menacing bright red eyes however, she looks into calm, kind green. She stares at him for one long moment, racking her mind for any memory of him. “Who are you?” the girl blurts out, looking him up and down suspiciously. Sure, the guards don’t seem to mind him being here, but that doesn’t mean she’s about to trust this stranger. They didn’t mind Technus Two-point-really-needs-a-new-hobby after all (at least, not until he started bad mouthing their new king).... _Although Technus isn’t really much of a threat in the Ghost Zone with the lack of technology in most areas, but-_  
  
“I’m known as the Ghost Writer. I was asked to be your teacher before this whole tragic mess came about.”  
  
Dani relaxes some, pushing all other thoughts out of her mind. Going off on a mental tangent like that is a bad habit of her’s, probably due to the constant months she spent more or less by herself. “Ghost Writer, huh?” she asks with a thoughtful air. “Yeah, I’ve heard of you,” Dani nods, then grins widely. “Is it true that you once stuck my cuz in a Christmas poem, and forced him to _rhyme_ the whole time?!” Dani inquired eagerly, a sly expression on her face as she snickers at the thought. _Oh, this would be awesome blackmail if most of the ghost population didn’t already know about it already! Poor cuz._ She thinks will little sympathy, to entertained by the mental image of him stuck in constant, frustrating, corny rhyme.  
  


“Well, it was to teach him a valuable lesson, but yes, this is true. Why do you ask; would you like to read it?”  
  
“You bet!” Dani cheers, radiating a brighter white glow in her excitement.  
  
Inwardly, the Ghost Writer (a man that has ‘bookworm’ written all over him, what with the scarf, glasses and all) gives a sigh of relief. He doubts that anyone could stop the girl once she truly decided to charge head first into trouble. He is lucky he got to her before she went off and did something rash and dangerous. “I’m glad to hear it,” he tells her sincerely. “The poem is called _The Fright Before Christmas II._ If you’d follow me?” They’d barely taken two steps back towards the castle (or floated, in Dani’s case), before the next wave of chaos is unleashed upon the ghostly realm. With a bright flash of light, a giant floating structure appears next to and collides with Phantom’s Keep. The sudden arrival and following collision sends palpable waves through Zone, cracking concrete and tossing aside unprepared ghosts like rag dolls.  
  
Danielle screams, but the Ghost Writer is quick on the uptake. Wrapping an arm around the young girl’s waist, he turns them both intangible. The shockwave passes through them harmlessly. Once everything calms and the roaring in the background settles to a distant rumble, the Ghost Writer drops intangibility and lets go of Dani’s waist. Mentioned girl stands there, shivering in shock. While for age she has gone through _a lot_ , she’s never had to deal with something of this magnitude, whatever _this_ is. The Ghost Writer looks down at his young student-to-be, mind whirling. Above all his chaotic thoughts however stands one evident truth. _Young Danielle must get inside the castle._ Dani meanwhile stares at the older ghost, noticing his intent almost immediately.

 

Smiling sheepishly, she turns intangible and says, “Sorry Ghost Writer, but it looks like we’ll have to cut story-time short.” She flashes him a cheeky grin before turning invisible and taking off without any sign of hesitation.  
  
Ghost Writer meanwhile stares at the empty spot she just occupied, scared stiff for the child but not surprised in the least. Slowly, a bitter-sweet smile makes its way across his lips. “Danny won’t be happy about this… If he isn’t already doing the exact same thing, that is.”

 

* * *

 

 

Karakura town is peaceful.

 

Sure, it has its problems, but what town doesn’t? Albeit the problems of this town are a bit more odd than most… The town is infested with _hollows_ , monsters that were once deceased human souls and now exist only to sate their constant hunger. To do so, they’ll prey on anything from hapless living and dead human souls, to the powerful beings the ferry the dead known as Soul Reapers, to even their own kind. On top of it all, the Japanese town is practically overflowing with reishi and is home to humans who sport high levels of this spiritual power, all of which makes it a prime hunting ground for hollows. When put into this perspective, Karakura town should be anything _but_ peaceful.  
  
Yet it is.

 

It is thanks to the combined efforts of the occasional patrolling Soul Reaper, an astute Quincy, superpowered humans, several artificial souls in plushie form, humble shopkeepers and a talking cat. Among the superpowered humans is a stoic Mexican Japanese teenager, a ditzy teenage beauty, a black-belt martialist, a red-headed lesbian pervert, two hormonal highschool boys, four surprisingly strong-willed children barely hitting puberty, even an eccentric reality show host and countless more who have yet to realize their own power. All in all, quite the motley crew, no? Surely this town is just as if not more bizarre than the so-called  _ most haunted city in America, _ Amity Park…

 

Yet it is not.

 

To all appearances, and to the belief of the vast majority of its population, Karakura is entirely normal-- boringly so. According to most people, the most exciting this town gets is when Don Kanonji ( _eccentric show host_ and “renowned exorcist”, sound familiar?) drops by for another one of his shows. For a reason that eludes many, Dan Kanonji has taken a liking to Karakura, not that anyone is complaining. This quiet, riverside business center needs some liveliness and excitement every once and awhile… According to most people. It makes sense, as for some reason most of the humans in Karakura are somehow inept and incapable of seeing the supernatural.  
  
A certain spirit is aware of all of this. She has taken up residence in Karakura town within the last month. She is neither hollow nor Soul Reaper, nor any of the others listed. One could say she is a deceased human spirit, but in all honesty she is so much more than that. She is something this town has never seen, and is taking full advantage of that.  
  
In a way, the spirit is like a hollow. She feeds off the humans here, but not in the literal sense. The mere thought of hollows and what they do disgust her to the point she discreetly defeats that cross her path, instead of merely fleeing herself. Strangely enough, she has found that they can easily be defeated by destroying their mask. Where they end up after that, this spirit does not know. Probably in some forsaken corner of the Ghost Zone. Perhaps even the unworld-- that hell like place between the real world and ghost zone.

 

No matter. As long as the humans continue to wish at their little wishing wells, the spirit would be pleased. Karakura could offer her just as much power as Amity Park, and with no annoying teen superhero or ghost hunters wise to her plots, the genie-esque ghost is free. Free to grant wishes, to grow stronger… And  _ oh _ , how strong she has become. When she first arrived here some weeks back, she was as skittish as a terrified. Everything was new-- the monsters, the town’s heroes (some more than a match for her). And the obliviousness of the humans! It had simply astounded her. How could they be so blind to what is before their very eyes?

 

So she had hidden away, only venturing out and about to grant wishes in the most subtle of ways. As promised to her though, she did not have to keep this tiring routine for long.  _ Now _ this town’s pathetic “monsters” and “heroes” don’t even show up as a blip on her ghostly radar. They are inconsequential, mere objects for her amusement. Why limit herself to these mere insects though, when she could have so much more  _ fun _ elsewhere? The options are endless for the ghost known as Desiree.

 

“How terrible of me…” The crimson-eyed beauty that is Desiree purrs. “I completely forgot to attend the coronation of my new _king_.” Her lips twitches downward in disgust at the thought before returning to their former, predatory smirk. “Hm, perhaps I could make it up to him with a coronation gift, a _gift_ unlike any other…” Her gaze trails to a large sign with the town’s name etched into it. “ _Karakura Town_ , newest realm of the Ghost Zone. Doesn’t that sound just grand? And that poor, _poor_ boy here who so desperately wishes to cross over and see his friends on the other side… I could _never_ turn down a wish so pure, especially if it would deny more subjects for my _precious_ _king_ …” Yes, Desiree has taken quite a liking to the idea. She is more than powerful enough now to complete such a feet, and is well aware of this fact. “Oh, I can’t wait! The King will simply be so _pleased_!” 

 

She laughs in mad delight, her laughter echoing across the town as she allows herself to be heard for the first time in this town. “ _ Your wish… is my command _ !”   
  


“My, my-- what was  _ that _ ?” hums a strangely dressed man with a paper fan and striped hat. He peek out of one of his shop’s window. Much to his surprise and curiosity, the sky has taken on a sickly green tinge. He can hear various shouts of alarm from outside. He can also hear distant crashes, followed by the sound of car alarms and even more panicked voices. His usual, near constant jovial grin dips in response to it all, but besides that maintains his at ease persona. “Hmm, and I was afraid it would be a boring day. I should really be more careful of what I wish for…” he murmurs as he turns away from the window to walk deeper into his shop. 

 

He takes a brief moment to calm two concerned children that had been cleaning in the shop before making his way to a secret trap door. Opening it, he makes his way down the steps that are revealed. Once at the bottom and with a clap of his hands, the light turns on. The stairs lead to an advanced lab. Sterile and white, it would almost appear to be the peak of human technology if it weren’t for the floating, glowing katana in the middle of it all. The  _ humble shopkeeper’s _ latest project, and one that he has taken the utmost care with. It is for a young friend of his after all, a friend that the humble shopkeeper has been awfully unfair to and yet this friend has never let him down… So a little gift like this is the least the shopkeeper can do. Now he need only decide on the right time to give it.  _ The time might be sooner than I thought… _ The shopkeeper muses, but nonetheless turns away from the sword in favor of a large, sleek computer counsel.

 

Quickly typing at the keyboard, the computer whirls to life. The sound is gentle at first, before numerous surveillance videos burst on screen. “The situation is not good, to say the least. You don’t need your surveillance cameras to see that,” comes a grim voice to the right of the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper pauses to blink down in pleasant surprise at his visitor. There stands a beautiful black feline with bright, intelligent yellow eyes.

 

“Oh, Yoruichi! You’ve returned to me!” The man squeals in happiness to the cat, picking the small creature up and doing a small spin in place.

 

“This isn’t the time, Kisuke!” snaps the black cat in hand, glowering furiously at the immature man.

 

“Yes, yes. You’re right, of course,” the man (Kisuke) replies, put off, although not because the cat spoke. Because of what the cat said. The cat is about to say more when something incomprehensible happens. An unnatural feeling arises in all of the inhabitants of Karakura when with a flash and a roar, their world is ripped away from them. It takes awhile for everyone to gather their senses. As soon as Kisuke does, he practically pounces on his computer, furiously inputting commands into the keyboard. “Oh dear~” he suddenly pips up in a sing-song tone of voice. “Yoruichi, I don’t think we’re in Japan anymore~ Or planet Earth, for that matter.”

 

“...Kisuke…?” The cat inquires warily, trying to make sense of her eccentric friend’s words and at the same time dreading to do so.

 

The computer begins to rattle and tremble violently. Shocked, both man and cat jump away from it. They watch in shocked fascination as all around lab equipment glows a neon green and _flies_ out of the room. “My lab!” Kisuke cries out in dismay. “Come back!” The pair quickly trails behind the runaway lab equipment. They burst out of the trap door and to the front of the little, rundown shop.  
  
“Boss, take a look at this!” says a redheaded boy around thirteen-- one of the children who was cleaning the shop earlier. He points up and out the door way. Indulging the younger, Kisuke does indeed look. In the middle of a quickly collating collection of technology (Kisuke’s lab equipment among it) floats a figure of the likes Kisuke, the cat and boy has ever seen before.  
  
“BWAHAHAHA! I AM TECHNUS 2.0, MASTER OF TECHNOLOGY! AND... THIS REALM’S NEW RULER! BOW BEFORE ME, PATHETIC UNDERLINGS!”

 

It was peaceful in Karakura town.  
  
Sure, it had its problems. Yes, these problems were odder than usual (whether the populace was aware of them or not), but all in all the city was generally happy and safe. Peaceful.  
  
Now there is only chaos.

  
  


**_Can you feel it?_ **

**_You're changin'_ **

**_You're changin'_ **

**_You're changin', all right!_ **

**_I hope you're satisfied_ **

**_But if you ain't_ **

**_Don't blame me!_ **

 

**Too bad there are no friends on the Other Side.**


	2. Chapter 2

Rukia stares at herself in the mirror, satisfied with what she finds. It has been quite a while since she has gone undercover, but she is sure her skills haven't rusted in the least. Staring back at her is a young, petite teenager with short black hair. She has a small nose, slim figure and rather modest chest. Her complexion is pale, yet still healthy looking. Although the slant of her purple eyes is not too apparent, it is definitely there. She could pull of being only part Japanese, something that should help avoid suspicion. After all, she is trapped in some western, English speaking city. Furthermore, Rukia doesn't appear ghostly in the least, despite not even wearing a gigai.

Nodding to herself in satisfaction, Rukia smooths down the knee-length purple skirt she is, ah, _borrowing_ from the recently abandoned store she found herself in. This store was one of the first useful places she wandered across after finding herself trapped in the city by a perplexing green kido shield. Figuring it was the Soul Society's way of isolating the anomaly, Rukia is not too alarmed. For a top she wears a pretty winter white blouse, accompanied by white sandals and a couple of colorful bangles along her wrist. As a finishing touch, she has a crossbone hairclip that has a built in purple bow painted to one side of the skull. She would be disgusted if it was the real deal, but finds this plastic hairclip rather cute (even if she'd prefer a chappy the bunny one). One might think that it is unwise for a spy to wear such flashy apparel, but that is the point. She won't try to keep her head down. Instead, she'll act like every other confused and frightened human girl pushed into such a situation. No one will expect her to be a hundred and sixty year old lieutenant of those 'angry Japanese samurai ghosts', as she vaguely overhead the broadcast in the store television describe her scouting party to be.

The only issue with this otherwise perfect outfit is that there is no place to put her zanpakuto, and she can't exactly go carrying it around in the open. She frowns slightly, glancing around the small retail store for anything else for her to borrow. She grows increasingly concerned when she initially finds nothing suitable. All of the backpacks are too small length-wise, and the idea of leaving behind her dear Sode no Shirayuki is simultaneously heartbreaking and anxiety-inducing.

Rukia gives an audible sigh of relief when at the very back of the store, yet to be set out for the public, lies a fairly large purple duffle bag. It is just large enough to fit her sword and will help explain why no one has ever seen her before. Quickly collecting it and storing her sword inside, she lugs the bag toward the front door- adding additional clothes supplies to it as she goes. (Rukia is sure to remove the price tags as she does.) She feels somewhat guilty at the blatant thievery, but determines it to be for a good cause.

" _For those who have for some reason forgotten the locations of the bunkers, a list will appear momentarily."_ Rukia is lucky. She was just about ready to walk out the door when she heard this from television screen. Eager for this information, she whirls around and stares intently at the small screen. She squints her eyes, wishing she had something to write with as a list scrolls down. It is… difficult for her to interrupt, to say the least. Her spoken English may be very good thanks to her time at Karakura High and later individual studies, but the written portion has been difficult to get the hang of- it is just so different from Japanese. She tries sounding out a couple of words she sees under her breath. It doesn't seem right, and Rukia hopes it may only due to English names sounding weird in general- and not because of a mispronunciation on her part.

The screen abruptly switches from the mundane list to a scene so bizarre the girl finds herself jolting back a bit. She blinks rapidly, wondering for the first time if the television was left on some science fiction show instead of the actual news. The reporter is currently showing off the town's main line of defense… Rows and rows of human piloted machines- like mechas, from Ichigo's silly yet amusing 'anime' shows. _He told me those were fiction! Was he lying to me…? No. Why would he? Not to mention, Ichigo can't lie to save his life. So then why…_

"TO THE EXTREME!" The shout interrupts her thoughts, and she watches incredulously as a duo in ridiculous outfits are interviewed by the reporter.

"Ghost hunters? These two are ghost hunters? How ridiculous!" Rukia chortles, speaking quietly to herself in Japanese. The mechas might have given her a worried pause, but now she is more at ease. "They remind me of Don Kanonji. If they do have any reiatsu to speak of, I doubt it will be any more than his." Shaking her head to herself in scolding of her initial worry, Rukia quickly exists the shop with one mission in mind- to find one of these bunkers and glean as much information as possible from these humans.

* * *

Quiet gasps and the quick patter of footsteps echo throughout the town, followed swiftly by loud thumps as windows and doors are slammed shut. A freakshow is strolling through town, both in the literal and figurative sense, and the good people of the Soul Society Rukongai want _nothing_ to do with him nor his equally ghastly companion! "My dear Lydia- just _what_ have we stumbled upon?" Freakshow muses to himself with his signature diabolical (or more accurately _disturbing_ ) grin. Dressed in gothic attire from his glory days as ringleader of Circus Gothica, Freakshow wears a black trench coat, black bowl hat, red tie and red lipstick. His skin is a sickly gray and he wears red eye contacts. The overall effect, ironically enough, makes him appear more ghostly than any of the plus souls in this literal ghost town.

Clutched in his hand is a staff with a certain red orb that quite a few people in Amity and ghosts in the GZ would find very, _very_ familiar. He strokes the glassy surface with loving care as he gazes at this primitive (if organized and clean) little town. "Tch. We don't have _time_ for this…" he bemoans suddenly, tapping his foot in a quick, irritated rhythm. "It took me several years to get this blasted orb back together! And what are we doing? Not recreating my beloved Circus Gothica, that is for certain!" He paces, in a rage.

Lydia looks sympathetically at her master, making a shape of a large dome in the air with her ectoplasmic powers. The green dome fades a couple of seconds later. Seeing this, Freakshow responds. "Yes, yes- I know you can't enter until the shield is down and I'd never go without you…" He waves a hand flippantly. "If only we were a bit closer when the shield came up! How to proceed though? I can't imagine us finding anything useful in this worthless little town..." He glances around some more. The road is white tile and clean. Short buildings on both sides are arranged neatly (all currently locked tight). Truthfully, it all looks far too idyllic for his taste. In fact, he finds himself disgusted and doesn't hesitate to show it. "What is this? A detailed set to a movie? Some sort of chinatown? And how annoying! I don't see any sign of technology _anywhere_ …" He just finished speaking when the town bursts into motion.

" _Stop where you are_!" Freakshow is puzzled. Around the corner and out from various buildings pour out men with various weapons- mainly curved swords. Freakshow vaguely recognizes them as katanas, although with only the most basic definition attached to the name. 'Fairly long, curved, sharp Japanese samurai swords…' Although the men who wielding them certainly do not appear as Samurai, but instead some half-baked milita.

"Ah, gentlemen," Freakshow purrs in delight, causing a few of the men to step back at the weird tone of voice (even if they don't understand a word). "Could any of you perhaps tell me where I am? _Certainly this wretchedly sunny place is not the heavenly Ghost Zone..._ " He mutters the last bit under his breath, although Lydia with her enhanced hearing picks it up just fine. She forces herself not to roll her eyes at her master's words as she floats two paces behind him. She might like the Ghost Zone herself, but only the gothic and ghost obsessed Freakshow would call the place 'heavenly'.

Freakshow waits for an English response, yet none is forthcoming. Instead the men continue to take up their positions in surrounding the two beings, whispering amongst each other meanwhile. "What are these creatures? Arrancars?"

"No you fool! There are no bones anywhere on them. And look at that one! Her skin is green! Her eyes are glowing red and she has bizarre symbols all over. These things are something new altogether."

"Shit. Where are the shinigami? Shouldn't they be on top of stuff like this?"

"Shut up. We're the town's militia! It's about time we live up to the honor."

Freakshow doesn't seem concerned in the least at being surrounded nor outnumbered. Instead he merely watches this back-and-forth with a bored frown. "Tch, I can't understand a word coming out of their mouth," he complains to no one in particular. He turns to his companion. "Do you, my dear?" Lydia shakes her head negative. "A pity… Not that you'd really be able tell me what they are saying, even if you could."

The townsfolk tense and listen intently when they hear the intruder speak up for a second time. "What language is that?" one wonders in discomfiture and well-founded wariness.

"Speak normal Japanese, you freak!" another barks aggressively, raising his sword threateningly. The sunlight gleams off the gleaming surface of the blade. It might not be a zanpakuto, but the blade has been well cared for and can certainly do some damage.

Freakshow might not be able to speak Japanese, but he is no idiot. He knows when he is being insulted and outright threatened- and he doesn't like it one bit. Deciding to take the initiative, he says offhandedly, "Lydia, take care of them." Lydia obediently raises her arms. The militia is horrified when they see the strange markings on her glowing green body begin to _move_.

The screams that originate throughout West Rukon District 10 do not last for long- and are soon followed by a disturbing, indefinite silence.

* * *

"And so you see…" _Sniff. Sniff._ "I was separated from my transfer family and have no idea where to go!" Rukia trembles slightly, wiping away a nonexistent tear as she turns her head away. She stands in the middle of an all but abandoned main street, pouring her heart out to the first noncombatant humans she caught sight of. Their arms were full of suitcases and bags as the hurried off somewhere, incapable of driving to their destination when the street is littered with abandoned (or crashed) vehicles. Rukia was lucky to find them- they seem to be the last citizens still out in the open.

And so, perfect for hearing Rukia's 'tragic' tale.

"Oh, Papa!" The hispanic girl cries after hearing the other girl's tale, pulling her into a tight hug. Rukia yelps at the unexpected act by the teenage girl. Used to Orihime's glomps however, Rukia soon relaxes and 'shyly' hugs the girl back, burying her face in the other's pink clad shoulder. "We just _have_ help her!" The hispanic teenager pets the girl's hair as she would an especially cute and sad kitten.

"Of course hija," the big hispanic man agrees, wiping an actual tear from his own eye. "We can't abandon this young lady! Tell me, senorita. What is your name?"

Rukia pauses in her emotional sniffling. It is fortunate that her face is still hidden in the teenager's shoulder, as it hides the sudden change of expression. _Shit._ Rukia thinks bluntly. She hadn't thought of a name. _How could I prepare my attire, backstory and everything else but not my own name!_ She can't very well call herself Rukia. Well, she could, but it wouldn't seem right. What if these people hear talk of Kuchiki Rukia fukutaicho- or translated to English as Lieutenant Rukia Kuchiki? As unlikely as it is, someone might catch on. It would be sloppy on her part for everything to fall to pieces just because she used her real name.

So, Rukia speaks the first R western name that pops into her mind. "Rachel," she says, although the name sounds awkward rolling off her tongue. Thankfully though, the humans chalk it up to merely her being emotionally distraught.

"Well Rachel, I am Fernando Hernandez and this is my daughter Paulina." He proudly sets a large, hairy hand on his daughter's shoulder after she and 'Rachel' separates.

Rukia resists the urge to do a customary bow, and instead shyly (and somewhat stiffly) extends a hand in greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she says politely, lacing as much sincerity as she can into the single phrase.

Paulina looks somewhat amused as she daintily shakes the hand. "You'll do." Paulina determines suddenly, speaking so quietly under her breath that they hardly sound like words.

Rukia blinks owlishly. "Pardon?" she questions lowly with her slight accent.

"I said, it's true! It really is a pleasure to meet you," Paulina responds sweetly, not missing a beat. Rukia is somewhat suspicious until what Paulina says next completely shuts down Rukia's brain. "I can't wait to show you around the mall after this latest ghost fiasco is all over!"

_Latest… ghost… fiasco…_ Her mind races a thousand miles per minute, repeating over and over those three words. She wonders if she is translating it correctly, for surely those three words can't imply what she thinks they mean! _Latest… ghost… fiasco… Meaning they've gone through something like this…. BEFORE?!_ Rukia screeches internally, somehow managing to keep a calm, outward facade.

Mr. Sanchez grows increasingly concerned. After all, Senorita Rachel seems a bit _too_ calm, almost like she is no longer processing the world around her. "Come, chicas. We are already late to the bunkers, and it grows increasingly dangerous the longer we stay outside." He lays a gentle hand on Rachel's shoulder, the dazed girl only moving when prodded to.

"Please, Papa." Paulina rolls her pretty blue eyes in fond exasperation before throwing 'Rachel' a sympathetic glance. "Don't scare the poor girl by saying such things! It's only a ghost attack, and we _are_ well prepared." Paulina takes out some lipstick and taps a silver band on her wrist, then an odd silver belt wrapped snuggly around her waist. Rukia can't help but stare at Paulina like she is crazy, not seeing the use of these seemingly random objects. Paulina goes on blissfully, oblivious to Rukia's reaction. "Besides, I'm sure my love will find a way to save us soon enough~"

* * *

At the edge of town everything is cast in a eerie green glow, caused by the sunlight filtering through the ghost shield above and around. The sounds of multiple shuffling feet, vehicles, various and equipment are heard as people do what they can to bolster Amity Park's defenses. Yet, despite the urgency of their own tasks, these brave men and women of Amity Park are sure to part ways for the meeting of two important people. "Dr. Fenton." The man in navy blue tilts his hat respectfully to the woman in teal blue.

"Chief." Maddie nods politely back as she sets her hands on her hips. The ghost huntress is fully decked out in ghost hunting equipment. There is not a hook on her specter deflector belt that is free of one gizmo or another. With the hood of her hazmat suit pulled over her head and goggles adjusted accordingly (not to mention a giant, high tech bazooka attached to her back) Maddie Fenton is quite the sight to behold. "Where's the ghost?"

"This way, ma'am." The police chief turns smartly around and begins marching towards the ghost shield at the edge of town. They pass the reporter crew, small pocket groups of armed militia, the police car line ups, the various licensed hunters lurking about, the row of manned ecto-skeletons and their most important defense- the ghost shield itself. Beyond it, a single figure waiting patiently. Maddie can't make out colors too well through the vibrant, neon green shield- but she approaches she notices several details. The ghost is a he. He has long hair, loose fitting clothing and a kind smile. When Maddie stands a few feet from him, only separated by the inch shield, the ghost bows.

Maddie doesn't return the bow. Instead, she crosses her arms loosely and regards the ghost coldly. "I am Maddie Fenton of the Amity Park city council. I have been chosen to speak on behalf of the mayor and city. You wanted to tell us something?"

The ghost is undeterred by the lack of respect returned. He merely continues to smile, giving the human woman a quick once over. If he is surprised by her apparel, which is more suited to a warrior than a diplomat, he doesn't show it. "I am Jushiro Ukitake, Captain of the Thirteenth Division of the Gotei 13. I have been chosen to speak on behalf of the Soul Society and thank you now for taking the time to see me." Maddie purses her lips, but nods in recognition of the thanks. She is pleased to find that Jushiro, unlike his comrades, speaks near perfect English. _It will make threatening the ghosts easier at the very least, if negotiation falls through_ , Maddie decides. Jushiro goes on, clearing his throat lightly. "I would like to make it clear first, that your city's appearance here is as much a shock to us as it seemed to be for you and your people."

"So you are saying your 'Gotei 13' and 'Soul Society' had nothing to do with the forcible removal and transportation of my town? Nothing at all?" Maddie inquires stiffly, staring the ghost down. Not all ghosts are terrible, she's realized this for some time now- but Maddie is still a ghost huntress and she still firmly believes that these particular ghosts are no friends.

Jushiro nods. "That is correct. In fact, we were hoping you could shed some light as to what happened and why you are here."

Maddie scowls. "Very well. It is quite the simple story. Once upon a time, it was an entirely average day at Amity Park, with the people of the fair city going about their everyday business... when quite unexpectedly, in a flash of light brighter than noon accompanied by what seemed to be a mild earthquake, the fair city of Amity Park in a place far removed from our country and even our very world. As for our first encounter with the inhabitants here? To be greeted by madly raving Japanese ghosts, waving around swords like they are about to loop someone's head off. And when we raise a shield in self defense? It is prodded and attacked by the very same ghosts… _Only_ when our shield manages to withstand all, do these ghosts finally decide to initiate negotiation."

Maddie takes in a deep breath before leveling Jushiro with a challenging look. "Now tell me, Mr. Ukitake, why we should trust a single thing you say?"

Jushiro blinks his eyes owlishly at the challenge, taken aback by the human's blazen attitude. _She is either the best or worst kind of diplomat... Well, Fenton-san is quite the storyteller, if nothing else._ Outloud, he gives a weary sigh. "I don't suppose it will do any good now, but I do apologize for what must have been taken as an attack on your home. Yes, your shield was tested, but it was not with the intention of harming your people in anyway. Within the last few years the Soul Society has withstood several invasions of sorts, and so we have taken to airing on the side of caution…. When we saw your city suddenly appearing next to our capital, a strange shield raised and what seemed to be the preparations for a mounting attack inside… Well you tell me, Fenton-san, why we should believe a word you have to say." The last sentence is spoken very softly, and even through the green shield Maddie can see a hint of sadness in his eyes. Despite using her words against her, there is no real challenge in his.

Now it is Maddie's turn to blink and stare blankly. She lets her arms unfold and drop to her side as she regards the man in a new light. _We landed next to their capital? If this is true, no wonder they were so hostile initially. Although he could be lying…. Still, perhaps there is some hope for negotiation yet._ "You make a fair point," she admits grudgingly. "Hopefully this all is just one big misunderstanding- although I don't fancy the idea of a third, unknown force at work here."

"Neither do I," Ukitake concurs, relieved to have gotten through to the human. "Which is why I believe it is paramount to exchange information and get to the bottom of this as soon as possible."

Maddie hums for a moment, then nods curtly once more. "An equal exchange. A question for a question."

Ukitake smiles brightly. "Excellent. Let us sit down for this- and please, ask the first question."

Just when Maddie is about to comply, a large explosion rocks the foundation of the Soul Society. Maddie drops into a high crouch, instantly and warily scanning the area for danger… But fortunately for her, the explosion did not originate from Amity Park. Oh no- it originated from the Seireitei, in flare of bright violet. Maddie appears confused by this, and looks to Ukitake for explanation, but he is no longer paying any mind to her. Instead, he stares towards his capital with wide brown eyes and breathes only a single word- a single word that Maddie has to strain to hear.

" _Aizen."_


End file.
